


Flash

by Inwiste



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Happy Ending, Light Angst, Lindon (Tolkien), M/M, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Relationship, Second Age, Thunder and Lightning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:14:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23153830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inwiste/pseuds/Inwiste
Summary: When the lightning flashed across the sky and the thunder boomed, Glorfindel could feel the balrog's whip on his hair and the smell of burning flesh. Erestor said to come to him if he needed anything, and this definitely counted as something.Glorfindel has nightmares about the balrog. Luckily, Erestor is still awake.
Relationships: Erestor/Glorfindel (Tolkien)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 79





	Flash

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all, I hope you're staying safe from the coronavirus. I'm off of school for a while so I'll probably be posting a fair amount. This is set in Lindon in the Second Age around a month after Glorfindel's arrival on Middle Earth. It does feature PTSD flashbacks, but that's it. I hope you enjoy!

Glorfindel had walked by the door three times when he finally stopped in front of it. He felt ridiculous, standing out here in the middle of the night, but the thunderstorm raging outside the palace forced him out of his room. Each crack of thunder sounded like the balrog’s whip waiting to drag him to his death once more. It made his reincarnation feel like a dream in the final moments before his death. 

Glorfindel had been at the palace for a month now and it felt as strange to him as it did on his first day. Gil-Galad was kind, but he could feel the tiredness and sadness radiating off of the king from the moment he met him. He could relate to that feeling. The chief counselor was much harder to read than the king. His aura was calm and his eyes were kind, but Glorfindel could not discern anything more than that. Erestor was incredibly friendly with him and they were slowly building a strong friendship, but he was worried about this. He knew Erestor said to come to his quarters if he had an issue, but it was the middle of the night. What would Erestor think? The reasonable part of his mind said that Erestor wouldn’t think anything of it and would help him, but the panicked part was quite sure he would be banished from Lindon and that he would be ashamed of his existence for the rest of his immortal life. 

Glorfindel shook his head and scolded himself for this foolish behavior. Another bolt of lightning struck and a crack of thunder followed soon after. At this, Glorfindel raised his hand and knocked on the door, silently praying that Erestor was still awake. 

The door opened soon after his knock and Erestor popped out. He was dressed in lounging clothes but he had clearly not gone to sleep yet. Erestor tilted his head in curiosity at Glorfindel, clearly waiting for an answer. 

“I’m sorry to bother you at this late hour chief counselor, but I could not sleep. The thunder, it’s-” Another bolt of lightning flashed across the sky and a clap of thunder resounded across the sky. Glorfindel visibly flinched at the sound.

“Come in, Glorfindel. And please, call me Erestor. I do not require the use of such formalities.” He stood aside to let Glorfindel enter and shut the door behind them. Erestor’s room was spacious and tastefully decorated. Upon entering Glorfindel could see several paintings hanging in the sitting room. One was of an elleth with ebony hair and similar features to Erestor. He was tempted to ask, but he figured it best to hold his tongue. That was not the reason for his visit and it was none of his business. Erestor led him to a chair where he sat down. Erestor grabbed a bottle of wine sitting on his desk and two glasses before settling in the chair across from him. 

They sat in silence for a moment or two while they sipped their wine. Erestor kept glancing at him though, and he eventually spoke.

“Is it the Balrog?” Glorfindel was surprised at how frank Erestor had been. Most of the elves he had encountered would not very subtly hint at it and hope Glorfindel would answer their questions. Most of the time he ignored them. He took another long sip of his wine before answering.

“Yes. That’s why I’m here.” Lightning lit up the room once more and thunder quickly followed, making Glorfindel shift slightly in his seat. Erestor remained calm with his eyes trained on him. 

He didn’t see pity in the counselor’s eyes. Instead, he saw sympathy and understanding along with a tinge of sadness in those ancient eyes. They betrayed the counselor’s youthful looks. Glorfindel believed their ancient eyes betrayed every elves’ looks. It was something they were unable to disguise with immortality. The sadness was quickly blinked away and was replaced by a calm mask. 

“When Elrond and Elros were younger they used to come to my room and sleep in my bed with me during thunderstorms. It seemed to calm them down. I can remember Gil-Galad doing the same as an elfling.” Erestor took another sip of wine before continuing, a small smile gracing his lips. “I believe I did the same when I was younger as well.”

“What are you suggesting then?” Glorfindel was slightly confused by the turn this conversation had taken, but he trusted the counselor. The elf in question tilted his head at Glorfindel once more and smiled gently at him. With that smile, a small number of Glorfindel’s nerves dissipated, but they quickly returned with the next clap of thunder.

“Do you want to sleep in my bed with me tonight? I promise that I am a model bedmate. It may help you sleep.” Glorfindel was unperturbed by the question. In his past life, he often slept in the same bedroll as Rog, Ecthelion, or Egalmoth on patrol to conserve body heat and prevent nightmares from alerting the enemy to their position. He could also tell Erestor was an honest elf and Glorfindel would not pass up the opportunity for a good night’s rest. 

“If you do not mind, that would be greatly appreciated.” Erestor smiled and looked slightly relieved at Glorfindel’s response. He set his wine glass on the table, stood up, and gestured for Glorfindel to follow him. Erestor led him through another door to a bedroom with similar decorations as the living room. The bed was spacious and Erestor sat down on one side and gestured for Glorfindel to sit on the other. His hair was already done in a neat braid down his back, but Glorfindel’s locks flowed freely. 

“Glorfindel, would you like me to braid your hair for you?” He was surprised by the offer, but Glorfindel quickly agreed. Erestor grabbed a comb and a tie from his nightstand and slowly brushed the tangles out of the blond elf’s hair, cautious of pulling too hard. Glorfindel relaxed into the touch; The feeling of the comb running through his hair was quite pleasant for him. Despite its length, Erestor quickly braided his long hair into a neat braid that fell down his back to his waist. He set the comb down after he finished. After blowing out the candle on his nightstand, Erestor pulled the bedcovers over himself and Glorfindel followed his example. 

They breathed quietly in the dark for a few moments, watching for the next lightning strike. The thunderclap this time was louder than the others and Glorfindel curled in on himself at the sound. His heart constricted in his chest and he could feel bile rising in his throat. The balrog’s whip was right behind him, pulling his hair and dragging him off the cliff to his doom. 

He was trying to fight the balrog when he felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist and a voice in his ear, murmuring softly. Glorfindel blinked and the cliff was replaced by a dark bedroom. He was so exhausted. He turned around and snuggled into Erestor’s chest. Erestor didn’t stop his murmuring at Glorfindel’s move. He continued long after Glorfindel fell asleep and eventually succumbed to sleep himself. 

For many years after, Glorfindel would seek out Erestor when a thunderstorm hit Lindon. The balrog’s whip and the smell of burning hair and flesh were slowly replaced by the scent of lavender and the soft fingers carding through his hair and playing with his braid. The episodes still came, but they were less frequent and he was less terrified when they ended. Erestor chased the nightmares away for him. For that, Glorfindel was grateful.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are always appreciated.


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